Carole Joyce of Arizona expected her role as a GOP elector to be pretty simple: She would meet the others in Phoenix and carry out a vote for Trump, who won the most votes in her state and whom she personally supported.

But then came the mail and the emails and the phone calls - first hundreds, then thousands of voters worrying that Trump's impulsive nature would lead the country into another war.

"Honestly, it had an impact," said Joyce, a 72-year-old Republican state committee member. "I've seen enough funerals. I'm tired of hearing bagpipes. . . . But I signed a loyalty pledge. And that matters."

I've been thinking of Lieutenant-Colonel Harald Jäger lately because I've wondered why it's hard to be brave. I think it's because we can very easily imagine the worst case scenario of what might happen to us if we stepped out of line (jail, mockery, threats), but it's hard to convince ourselves that what we do could make a difference to tens of thousands of other people. Thousands? If it would really help thousands of people, somebody else would have done it by now. We convince ourselves that the imagined consequences are real and the hope isn't.

On November 9, 1989, tens of thousands of East Germans gathered at the Berlin Wall, waiting to be let through. There had been an announcement from a government official that the border would be opened, but nobody knew exactly how or when. As the crowd around the Bornholmer Straße border crossing continued to swell, Lt.-Col Jäger called his superiors, and anybody he could think of, to find out what to do. Nobody knew. Everybody understood that it was important to open the borders, but nobody wanted to be the person who said "yes, I'll take responsibility. Open the gate."

At 11:30 p.m., knowing he didn't have the authority to give the order, Jäger ordered the gate be opened. People streamed through. There was no violence. Hearing what Jäger had done, other gate minders opened their checkpoints. That was that. It's been estimated that Jäger's action averted riots, averted panicked guards firing into ever-larger crowds, and saved the lives of dozens or hundreds of people who just wanted to be able to do things like visit family and go shopping. It was the end of the Berlin Wall, and the beginning of German reunification.

I think that when we're cowards, it's not exactly because we're worried about what will happen to us. It's because we don't believe one person could possibly make that much of a difference - a difference on the scale of deciding how to change a country's borders and leaders - so we'd suffer the consequences with no good result. Anyway, we don't think it should come down to us. What arrogance!

But here we are. Sometimes it does come down to us. In 1989, it came down to Lieutenant-Colonel Harald Jäger. He didn’t start the protests, or write the newspapers, or participate in the government negotiations. He just opened the door when everybody knew it was time.

That for me triggers the instant question of what it is you consider yourself loyal to—if it is the country itself, then make the decision that is best for the country, not for your faction. (And if it is your faction, reorganize your priorities.) I know that is not how most people think. I don't see any other healthy way to think about much of these politics.

In 1989, it came down to Lieutenant-Colonel Harald Jäger. He didn’t start the protests, or write the newspapers, or participate in the government negotiations. He just opened the door when everybody knew it was time.

My friend Jake Minton, who is an elementary school teacher and all-around smart guy, said today:

"Any organization that requires your loyalty oath is effectively admitting, upfront, that it may do something to challenge your loyalty. That it may in fact, now or some day in the future, no longer deserve your loyalty based on the balance of facts, critical thinking, and conscience. Any organization that requires your pledge, and especially those that threaten financial/political/physical retribution for breaking your *required* pledge, is attempting to numb you to facts, deactivate your critical thinking, and sublimate your conscience. Any organization that requires your loyalty oath has admitted to you that it does not deserve it."

I'd never thought of it in exactly those terms; I'm used to ethics codes (which I generally like) along the lines of swearing to discharge the duties of your office, swearing not to cheat, promising to do youre best, etc. But Jake's right; I'd be pretty troubled if anybody asked me for my loyalty no matter what.